


Be a Burning Star

by ASmallLizard



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - I'm Not Okay Video, Basement Gerard Way, Brotherhood, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Comfort No Hurt, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gerard Way gets a really good idea, Gerard Way has writer's block, He doesn't live in the basement but he's antisocial and doesn't shower so, I think this takes place in the I'm Not Okay universe, Mikey Way is a Good Brother, Mikey Way is a lovable idiot, Mikey Way is bad at giving advice but he tries his best, Origin Story, Platonic Relationships, Teen Gerard Way, Teen Mikey Way, Writer's Block, brothers tease each other, stargazing in New Jersey is really hard, the origin of the fabulous killjoys, the way brothers are chaotic, the whole way FAMILY is chaotic, totally not projecting onto Gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24719386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASmallLizard/pseuds/ASmallLizard
Summary: "If you're gonna burn out, at least burn out in style."Gerard Way lost his fire for creating.Thankfully, his brother's got the matches.
Relationships: Gerard Way & Mikey Way, Kobra Kid & Party Poison (Danger Days)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	Be a Burning Star

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My godsister :)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+godsister+%3A%29).



> This is my first Ao3 post, wowie.
> 
> I wrote this to help with my own writer's block. It started as a brain dump, but it turned into something I'm actually kinda proud of. Who knew writing about writer's block was good for writer's block lol. Hope you like it!
> 
> Big thank you to my godsister for always having my back, in the writing world and in the real one. Can't wait for you to read this!

Gerard woke up with splintery wood pressed against his face. His bedroom desk wasn't an ideal place to take a nap, but he hadn't meant for it to happen. He had been staring at the empty pages of his notebook for hours, but he couldn't fill it with words. Not the right words, anyway. Every time he brought his pencil to the page and began to craft a story, he realized it was crap, crumpled it up, and threw it across the room so he wouldn't have to look at his failure. It had been months since he wrote anything real, finished any stories. Projects he was once excited about annoyed him, and the passionate fire he once had for creating was cooled and smoldered.

He brushed his hand against the side of his face, hoping there weren't any splinters. That would be a pain in the neck to take care of... or, a pain in the face, really. Geez, he really was tired- what time was it, anyway? He looked over at the clock. 2:20 AM. He still had homework to finish. And come to think of it, he didn't remember showering that night, either. 

From weariness and because he was a drama queen, even in the solitude of his bedroom, Gerard flopped out of his chair and lay boneless on the carpet. He didn't want to do the things he was forced to do like homework and showering, but he didn't seem to have a desire to do the things he once loved, either. Like writing. So he was just kind of stuck in this limbo of apathy and meaninglessness, and the worst part was he couldn't figure out why. 

He stared at the ceiling for a minute before he had to stand up. He was tired, but he didn't want to sleep, and he couldn't bring himself to care about homework right then. Rocking on his back to get to his feet, he grabbed his favorite scarf- he wasn't even cold, he just liked having it- and slipped into the hallway. On his walk to the stairs, he paused in front of his brother's room. Mikey was sleeping, no doubt. He probably turned in at 10:30, his homework completed on time and his mind perfectly clear of murky feelings of self-doubt and disinterest, because that was how Mikey was. He couldn't wake Mikey up, even if he was lonely. Mikey didn't deserve that. 

So after a pause of hesitation, he left Mikey's door behind him. Creeping as quietly he could down the creaky stairs, he treaded through the kitchen and pushed open the sliding glass door, and stepped into the cool night on the back deck. The deck was old and unmaintained, just like everything else about their house. Gerard and Mikey weren't even supposed to be out here at this time of night because of the town's crime rate. But Gerard was 16 and only liked being outside at night, so he was willing to take the risk. 

He climbed onto the banister, not even tensing as it settled underneath him because he knew by now that it wouldn't give way, and breathed in the nighttime air as he looked to the sky. The amount of stars visible could be counted on his fingers. Gerard always thought stars were cool, but in smoggy Belleville, New Jersey, there weren't many to see. In the past he had thought about picking up a book on constellations or something, but it would be pointless. Just like everything else he thought about doing these days. 

There was a time where the words would just flow from some well deep within him. No matter how much he wrote, he always had more to say. Then all at once, the words stopped flowing. He had gone empty, practically overnight. Now, when he wanted to start a new story, he either wouldn't find the words to write it, or he knew he would never finish it anyway. Either way resulted in him giving up. 

Now he understood why Batman would stand on rooftops at night to brood. The silence made his thoughts so much louder, and the darkness eliminated distractions. There was nothing to do but face your thoughts and embrace the misery you had been avoiding all day. However, in a heartbeat the silence was replaced by thunderous rattle. Gerard almost fell off the banister in shock but clutched the chipped wood with all his life. The noise was the garbage cans on the driveway being knocked over. Someone was in front of the house. 

Gerard was paralyzed. He couldn't decide if he should investigate the noise or run inside and alert his parents. Of course, the latter would require him to admit to his mother that he had gone outside after hours and proved she was right all along, so maybe he would be better off taking his chances with the killer. As he tiptoed around to the driveway, he picked up one of the decorative bricks that lined the side of the house and kept walking to what he assumed would be his death. 

Slowly, he peered over the corner to see that, sure enough, the garbage cans by the garage door had been knocked over, their contents scattered all over the blacktop. But where was the cause...?

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The scream made Gerard heart burst, but he didn't get a chance to process who it was or what was going on because he was suddenly screaming too.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

The screaming being in the dark came at him so quickly, Gerard forgot to throw the brick. What happened next was a blur, but after the assault of what felt like a plastic rod against his head he came to his senses.

"Mikey? What the hell, it's me! Stop hitting me!" 

After about three more smacks, the beating stopped. "Gerard? What're you doing out here?"

"Looking for the guy who knocked over our cans!" Gerard barked in frustration as he brought his hands to his head. He was going to be covered in bruises in the morning. "Did you seriously hit me with a lightsaber?"

"I panicked. This was the first thing I could find," Mikey said, lowering his weapon. 

"Goddamnit, Mikey, I was gonna hit you with a brick!"

"Why were you gonna hit me with a brick?"

"Cuz I thought you were the guy!" 

"Wait," Mikey said, holding up a hand to silence him. Gerard was about this close to using the brick in his hand for its intended purpose. "If you're not the guy, and I'm not the guy, then that means..." 

A rustling in the grass finished Mikey's sentence. Suddenly the brothers were back to back, Mikey wielding his plastic lightsaber and Gerard with his brick at the ready. But the bolt shooting out onto the driveway had them both screaming again. They continued screaming even after the invader barked over their noise, rooted its nose through the scattered garbage, and trotted away with a chicken bone. 

After the waves of terror, enlightenment, relief, and embarrassment passed, Mikey spoke first. "It was a dog." 

"It was a dog," Gerard repeated. 

"That was dumb."

"Yeah. Yeah, it was." 

They stood in silence for a moment, wondering what their lives had come to and what they should do now. 

"Well..." Mikey said with a click of his tongue. "Guess we should clean this up." Leaving their weapons standing by, just in case, they got to work on cleaning up the aftermath of their encounter with the vicious killer who was in fact just a stray dog looking for a late night snack. 

"Why'd you even come out here?" Gerard asked as he gathered up two handfuls of trash. 

"Heard someone in the front, wanted to check it out," Mikey answered. "Just like you."

It was this stubbornness his younger brother exhibited that frustrated and bewildered Gerard, but also gave him reason to admire him. "I was already out," Gerard admitted. 

"What were you doing out?"

"Sitting on the deck."

"Couldn't sleep?"

"Didn't want to."

"You were in you room all night. I didn't come say goodnight cuz I figured you were sleeping already," Mikey said with a tease in his voice. 

Gerard chuckled. "No, I was, uh... workin' on homework."

"Not true."

Gerard looked up suddenly. He should have known that his brother knew him too well to believe he had locked himself in his room for hours to work on homework. "Alright, not homework."

"Were you writing?"

These simple words caused Gerard to pause, holding a crumpled-up McDonalds bag over the garbage can. "Well... I was trying to."

"Writer's block?" 

Gerard pursed his lips. Mikey was still his biggest fan even though it had been a long time since Gerard had given him an update. "Sorta... Mikes, I haven't told you this, but I haven't been able to write anything in months."

His heart fell right along with Mikey's face when his brother asked him why. 

"That's the problem, I don't know!" he barked as he slammed the garbage can lid shut. Mikey didn't say anything, and Gerard instantly regretted the last few seconds. He hated taking that tone with Mikey, and he didn't have the terror caused by a potential killer to blame this time. 

With a sigh, he ventured softly, "Wanna go t' the deck? There're six whole stars out tonight."

If Mikey was hurt by Gerard's snapping at him, he didn't show it. He rarely did. "Sure." Silently, the brothers treaded around the side of the house and onto the old wooden banister of the deck.

"I don't know what's wrong, Mikey," Gerard said, his eyes on the sky. "I think I'm just burned out."

Mikey mounted the banister in a single jump, almost fell off, and recovered before saying, "I don't think that's a thing."

"Sure it is," Gerard said with a shrug. "It's like the part of my brain that liked coming up with stories is just dying."

Mikey sniffed in response, swinging his legs gently. Looking to Gerard, he asked softly, "Why didn't you tell me about this?" 

The question made Gerard's eyes drop from the sky to blackened grass below him. "I dunno. Guess I just thought I could fix it."

"I wouldn't have made fun of you or anything," Mikey said. When Gerard didn't say anything, he added, "But I don't think you're burned out." Gerard scoffed and tried to argue, but Mikey wasn't done. "No, really. You're a creative person, and that can't just go away."

"Well, why can't I write anything anymore?" Gerard questioned. It was an unfair question, Gerard knew, one his fourteen-year-old brother couldn't possibly answer. But Mikey answered anyway. 

"I dunno. Maybe you're scared." 

"Scared?" He said it so incredulously he almost convinced himself it wasn't true. But a second after the word left his mouth he felt the weight of an indefinite amount of pressure on himself. Pressure to complete every story that came to his mind and spend all his time writing them as well as humanly possible. He hadn't realized just how much he had been demanding of himself back when he was writing regularly. But it seemed like his brain hadn't forgotten. Suddenly he realized it was his own fault he didn't want to write anymore. 

"Yeah. I'm scared." 

"Well... don't be," Mikey said. "What do you have to be scared of? You're a good writer, Gee. I miss reading what you write."

That's when Gerard realized just how badly he had missed it, too. He missed when he didn't care if the words he produced were poetic enough, or if the story he crafted was intricate enough. He missed the days when he wrote his stories the way Mikey read them- for fun, with no impossible standards for perfection. 

"Thanks, Mikey," Gerard said, nudging him with his shoulder. "Glad I didn't hit you with that brick."

Mikey laughed. "Yeah, me too. Me make a good house-defending team, though."

"Are you kidding me? If that dog had been a real psychopath we both would've been dead by now!"

He was starting to see shapes more clearly in the darkness, and Gerard could tell that Mikey was grinning. "I thought I did kinda good with the lightsaber!" he replied. 

"God, you were like some kinda kung fu warrior with that thing!" Gerard recalled with a wince as he rubbed his head, which was starting to bruise. "A freaking superhero of plastic in... are you wearing your snake pajamas?"

As his eyes had adjusted, Gerard noticed that Mikey was once again wearing those pajamas. Probably one of the only fourteen year old boys who still wore a matching pajama set, Mikey enjoyed sleeping in a t-shirt with a snake on it and pajama bottoms decorated in matching snake-scale print. They were hideous. Gerard had argued with him time and time again to get rid of them, but ever-stubborn Mikey continued to wear them frequently. 

In response to the accusation, Mikey chuckled and put a little more to-do into swinging his legs back and forth. 

"I hate you," Gerard said as he shook his head in disapproval. "There's a new vigilante on the prowl, and he's gonna bring you to your knees with a plastic lightsaber and the ugliest pj's you've ever seen. Criminals look out, here comes the Kobra Kid!"

This made Mikey shake with giggles, having to lean against Gerard to keep from falling off the banister. "Yeah, that'll be my superhero name. And you can be my sidekick, Brick Boy."

"Hey, I'm older," Gerard rebutted. "If anything, you're my sidekick. And Brick Boy is the worst name I've ever heard."

"Well, then, what do you want your superhero name to be?"

When Gerard went to think about it, about what he would call himself if he was a superhero, stomach fluttered. It fluttered even harder as he fell backwards off the banister and onto the deck with a slam.

"Gee, oh my God! Are you okay?" Mikey asked above him. He was clearly trying not to laugh, but Gerard was too stunned and in too much pain and far too excited to care. 

"Mikey," he said emphatically as he hauled himself to his feet. He rubbed his head, which was even more sore now, but the pain barely registered. "I just had the best idea."

The laughter passed from Mikey's face and tone, replaced by a genuine smile. "What? What's your idea?"

"I'm gonna write a new story. About us, if we were superheroes."

The plot was already churning in Gerard's head. He couldn't remember the last time he was mind-mapping a story. But when he said the words out loud, he realized how dumb it sounded. As he started to simmer with the shame of having tumbled off the banister for no reason, Mikey said, "No way, that's awesome!"

Gerard side-eyed him as he said, "Really? I mean... it's kinda stupid, and I don't even know if I'll have the brain power to finish it... I still feel burned out."

"Well, give it your best shot," Mikey said. "If you're gonna burn out, at least burn out in style."

Gerard couldn't help but chuckle at this. "Yeah. If my last work is gonna be you and me running around as superheroes, that'll be an achievement. I'm gonna be a burning star."

Mikey chuckled along. "Yeah, burn brighter than our six stars in the sky. Oh, and Kobra Kid better know kung-fu."

Gerard grinned at his brother. Once again, Mikey had come to his aide when he needed him. Even if it took a dog raiding their garbage cans and scaring the life out of them to make it happen. Gerard didn't know if this story idea would ever become anything or if he would even complete it, but he sure as hell was going to try. He was going to be a burning star, and if not for himself, than for his brother. 

That's when the back door was thrown open, the light of the house blinded them, and screaming started up all over again.

"Who the hell is on my deck?! Get outta here before I get to you first!"

Gerard wanted to melt through the cracks of the deck. His crash off the banister had alerted their father. 

"Donald, wait, I think that's the boys!" came the voice of their mother from inside. "Gerard? Michael? What did I say about being outside this late at night?!"

And with that, the Way Brothers were on the run. If they ran back around to the driveway, they could probably get in through the front with less commotion. As they sprinted through the night, Gerard told Mikey breathlessly about this idea, which he listened to despite their parents' screaming in their ears. 

Oh, and they made sure to grab their lightsaber and brick before making their retreat. Because good superheroes never left their weapons behind, and God knows they were going to need them.


End file.
